"He was the--" Robin asks into his hands, exasperated, before abruptly cutting himself off. He the lowers his hands to look flatly at the both of them. "Gods, of course he was. Of course it's still tacky enough to make the blind man the pilot."

"Hey, I did okay," Vincent defends himself, briefly batting at Irahl's fingers just to see if he needs to grab something, "We're fine an' here now, so don't worry 'bout it."

Robin sighs, begrudgingly, and gestures to Irahl. "And what were you, a ship counselor?"

You know, if he had to guess based on the pattern he's observed so far.